


private show

by evenmyneck (stopmopingstarthoping)



Series: Hope's Kinktober 2020 [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Universe, Exhibitionism, F/F, Masturbation in Shower, Teasing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/evenmyneck
Summary: Ingrid accidentally stumbles upon Hilda in the shower.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Hope's Kinktober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948084
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: Hilda Appreciation Collection





	private show

Hilda turns around and shakes her head back, letting the stream of shower water trail through her hair and wet it to her back. She has, stealthily, worked hard enough to raise a sweat, and she smiles a little proud smile to herself. No sense raising anyone else’s expectations, but  _ she _ feels pretty good about it. The water is warm, but not too hot, and she feels it rinsing the sweat away already, sluicing down over her skin in little rivulets.

She hears a small noise and her eyes fly open. Ducked behind a door is a flash of red cheeks and blonde hair, and Hilda smiles, catlike, to herself.

Ingrid Galatea is a muscled, earnest knight with the  _ best _ legs Hilda's seen in a long time. Hilda thinks about muscular thighs, and wonders how long this pretty woman will stay to look. Maybe Hilda can get her to stay longer. 

Just the thought of it has her running her hands lightly over her own body, trailing along in the water. Her nipples are  _ so  _ hard; she smooths soapy fingers over them appreciatively and lets out a light little huff. She plays with them a while, bouncing them in her cupped hands and sighing happily. Not something she’d normally do on her own, but she knows it looks good.

It’s not long, though, before her fingers skate downward and part her lips, tracing over her clit. She dips the tip of a finger in her cunt as well, surprised at how wet she already is, and not from the shower. Pulling slick lubrication up toward the tingling little bundle of nerves, she sets to work with determined focus, for the second time today.

She angles her body outward, for the best view, though she doesn’t open her eyes to peek again to see if Ingrid is watching. She hopes she is. She hopes Ingrid’s got those strong fingers buried in her own lips, sliding through her own slick and making herself feel  _ this _ good. 

She wonders what kinds of sounds Ingrid makes, and it makes her body jump a little in eager response. Her mouth opens. 

As her hand speeds up between her legs, her other hand travels over her body, plucking her nipples, smoothing over her neck, the curve of her hip. She plays up a little catch to her breath into a full gasp, and the feeling of being watched makes a spark of pleasure ripple through her muscles. Tired? She feels like fire, like the crackle of lightning all of a sudden. 

Hilda lets free the needy little desperate sounds she feels rising; they ricochet over the stone walls and floor. She feels her orgasm build and instead of the usual teasing she might do, she just dives in and savors it, tweaking a nipple and smashing fingers over her swollen, needy clit. She can feel pretty emerald eyes on her skin, and lets out a series of breathy gasps that end in a long moan as she comes. As soon as the first few waves have rolled through her and the sensitivity recedes a little, she plunges two fingers in and starts building to another peak.

Oh  _ yeah _ , that’s what she deserves. A whole morning on the training ground deserves a double, at least.

She comes again, hard, harder than when she’s alone; her hips buck back and forth on her fingers and slow gradually, and she breathes hard with her forehead pressed to the cool stone wall. 

Hilda opens her eyes and flicks a grin sideways before Ingrid can disappear again. She’s flushed and positively panting, and Hilda just says, in a languid, fucked-out voice, “It’s okay, you know. Knew you were there the whole time.”

After a moment of what can only be described as silent panic, Ingrid darts from the shadows to almost-embrace Hilda, and then flinches back, clearly on edge. Hilda holds out a hand for Ingrid to take and draws her in. Ingrid puts a hand on Hilda’s cheek like she’s something precious, instead of a wriggling, horny wet girl in the shower. She meets piercing green eyes and thinks maybe—maybe it’s both.

When their lips meet, it’s warmer even than the humid air, and Hilda traces her tongue over a swollen lower lip. Has Ingrid been biting it? Ooh, hot  _ and _ cute. She reaches wet fingers up to pull on yellow strands and Ingrid positively whines into her mouth.

“Do you like to watch? Wouldn’t have guessed that about you.” She whispers the question quickly before Ingrid fervently claims her mouth again.

When Ingrid breaks the kiss, she looks down briefly, cheeks flaming. “Not--not all the--just because. It was you.”

Hilda has  _ just  _ come all over her own fingers, but she feels a wet, hot throb at the confession, and a tingle runs through her limbs as her body stretches up to demand more from the muscled beauty in her arms.

“Oh that’s  _ really  _ good to hear.” Her eyes widen in emphasis, not out of insincerity but to make sure this shy, gorgeous knight of a woman knows she means it. 

“What do you want, Ingrid?” She tips her head up toward Ingrid, both inquisitive and because she knows it plays up her eyes. It’s only a little bit teasing. 

Ingrid stares down at their feet again, soapsuds that smell like freesia swirling around their toes. Before she answers, she lunges for Hilda’s neck, licking and sucking at it with a bold desperation.

“I want….everything. I want you.” The words vibrate against her skin.

“Mmmm.” Hilda’s head rolls back in a loose motion before her breath catches at a lick to a particularly sensitive part of her neck. “Your room, or mine?”

“Mine.” With the hungry way Ingrid is looking down at her, Hilda’s not sure if she means Hilda or the room, but either way she shivers in pleasant anticipation. 

“Are you always like that in the shower?”

“Only when I know I have a good audience.”


End file.
